Rising Spirit Ministry: Recent Episodes
Rising Spirit Ministry
Eric Gaudet has spent the last decade as Bashaw’s local friendly pharmacist, getting to know families and individuals in this small town and becoming an indispensable part of the community as a primary care provider. In a rural community without a hospital and with family doctors in extremely short supply across Alberta, the role of a licensed prescribing pharmacist is super important. But that’s not what makes Eric’s story fascinating. It’s not even the fact that Eric has recently been accepted into an elite national pilot program to explore innovative models of primary care delivery in Canada – although that is also really cool! No, the real reason that I wanted to share Eric’s story is that his approach to patient care is so wholistic, open minded, empathetic and down to Earth. Every one of us have experienced issues with our health where we need help finding the right course of treatment or even just answers to what is going on and what our options are. Eric definitely has a way of leaving people feeling heard and seen, and rather than treating a symptom, he is deeply interested in addressing the full picture of health and what is going on for that person in their day to day life such as mental health, financial situation or relationship stress. In this episode we discuss all of the above and Eric shares some of the things he’s learned along the way and what he loves about his work.
Lorne Gushue is a member of the worship committee at Yellowknife United Church, an affirming church located in a large public building in downtown Yellowknife. In the aftermath of wildfires that threatened homes, health and livelihoods, the needs of the local community have been top of mind for Lorne and the rest of the leadership team of their church. A church that is currently without a full time minister. And yet, as you’ll hear through Lorne’s incredible story, there are some amazing things happening at Yellowknife United Church! Through partnerships with schools, businesses and local health and social services, they are offering programs to support people experiencing homelessness, finding creative ways to share and rent their church space, and hosting diverse and inclusive events in their auditorium, like last week’s meditative ecumenical labyrinth walk! Lorne’s passion and compassion for his community is so apparent, and it was an honour to hear him share the recent story of evacuating from and returning to that community.
It feels like we’re all facing one kind of storm or another right now, whether it’s the strain of increased living costs, interest rates and inflation, or the lack of affordable housing, or the pain of feeling isolated, lonely and disconnected. Debt, food insecurity and homelessness are on the rise and the number of Canadians who feel optimistic about the future is dropping. Humans are suffering. So I wanted to talk with someone this week who brings compassion to human suffering and specializes in supporting people who are struggling. The kind of support that helps people not just improve their immediate situation but the kind of support that targets their suffering at a deeper level.
Daniel McMillan is a clinical psychologist in Calgary and founder of the Assured Psychology clinic where he specializes in adult and couples therapy. He is also the author of a brand new children’s book called “Badger and Turtle – Face the Storm”, a beautifully illustrated story about common relationship and connection patterns that Dan regularly uses in therapy sessions. In this podcast we explore the challenging reality that as humans we all fundamentally need connection and yet we’ve all been hurt and have developed defence mechanisms that often hold us back from being vulnerable and get in the way of meaningful and healthy connection. Dan shares some great stuff about his approach to exploring these delicate issues with individuals and couples, and some of the tools he uses such as Emotionally Focused Therapy.
To check out Dan’s new book visit http://danmcmillanbooks.com/ and to learn more about Assured Psychology, check out https://assuredpsychology.com/
Donna Ross is a 33-year educator. She is a Cree-Métis from Saskatchewan and member of the One Arrow First Nation, Treaty Six territory. Donna began her teaching career as a classroom teacher with Tsuut’ina Nation and continued to support First Nations learners in subsequent positions with Siksika and Stoney Nakoda Nations, and is currently an […]
Shandi is a queer poet and organizer in Lethbridge. In this episode we discuss the origins of Shandi’s incredible poetry, the genesis of her bold and impactful community project called the “Coming Out In Faith Monologues”, and her own personal faith journey and coming out story. We also talk about violence against the LGBTQ2S+ community and […]
Victoria Bucholtz (She/Her) holds a doctorate in History from the University of Calgary, with a cognate field in gender theory. Victoria is a LGBTQ+ facilitator and currently teaches at Mount Royal University. She is a transgender rights activist, entertainment producer, and drag queen. An avid mountaineer, skier, and dog mom, she lives in Calgary, Alberta […]
Jason Clark has worked in youth ministry for many years and has recently moved to our little town of Bashaw, Alberta where he’s now running the Bashaw Youth Foundation, working with youth at the Bashaw School and also getting involved as a leader in our Bashaw United Church. His energy and creativity seem to be endless, and already in the past few months of living in the community there has been a tremendous response from our youth in attending new events and programming that Jason has been creating. Today we are talking about how and why Jason was drawn to working with youth, his vision of what could be created here in Bashaw, what he’s learned about teenagers in all these years, and what happens to our youth and our communities when teens are not supported emotionally and spiritually through what can be the most difficult and influential years of their lives.
The Christmas season is a time of giving, generosity and coming together as a community, no matter where you live. But there’s something going on in the tiny little community of Bashaw that is unusual and almost inexplicably magical, and it is literally transforming lives. You could look at the Sugar Plum Ball event, or the Angels Among Us campaign, you could study the impacts of the Bashaw Food Bank and the annual Christmas hampers, or the Bashaw United Church’s new care packages for seniors that are being distributed around town right now. It wouldn’t matter which community program or event you examined, you’d find that behind every single one of them there has been a cultural paradigm shift in Bashaw in recent years that has magnified the impact and effectiveness of everything that we do to support those in need, and has fundamentally changed the way we create community. If you want to know what the secret is, you’d be hard pressed to find a better person in town to share it with you than Jackie Northey. Thanks for listening, and Merry Christmas!
“From The Wild” is a web film series that explores incredible journeys in wild food and beautiful, wild spaces. Its creator, Kevin Kossowan, is an award winning filmmaker and foodie who has worked with Michelin Star chefs and filmed on almost every continent on the planet. He’s been a blogger since the days when you had to explain to people what a blog was, and his craft of storytelling combines with his craftsmanship with a camera and with wild food ingredients in the bush camp kitchen, at the fireside and out in the field, like a perfectly balanced and blended cocktail enjoyed with friends under the stars. In this podcast episode Kevin and I dive into his life and the origin story of From The Wild, we discuss the significance and role of “beauty” in elevating our eating experiences, and toward the end we go into the deep end a bit with questions about life and death and what makes a meal or a moment sacred.
Check out Season 8 and previous seasons of From The Wild
Finding our place where we feel a sense of belonging, purpose, security and happiness is what all of us hope for in life, and Mandy seems to have found all of it right here on Main Street, in Daysland, Alberta. But like all great rewards it hasn’t come without great risk and hard work. This is the story of Mandy’s giant leaps of faith that led her into the world of business and have helped to revitalize her small corner of rural Alberta in Flagstaff County. If you know Mandy, you already know she’s a great storyteller and she’s a force to be reckoned with when she gets an idea in her head. And if you haven’t met her yet then you better get out to the Rusty Daisy Gift Co. in Daysland. She won’t let you leave town a stranger.
You can also check out Mandy’s shop on Facebook @therustydaisy and on Instagram @rustydaisyco
Vik Maraj is the co-founder of Unstoppable Conversations in Edmonton, AB. He helped create and lead an international high-growth education company, developed curriculum and taught hostage negotiation for Canada’s National Police, resolved international disputes within the UN, and galvanized an almost unthinkable billion-dollar collaboration between some of the world’s largest energy companies, academics, and local […]
What is this, a podcast studio, a community theatre stage, or a church? The answer is yes, it is all three. And on any other given day it’s also a movie theatre, a space for worship, for grief support groups to meet, for a baptism, communion, funeral or a wedding. In other words, it’s a […]
Ary Vreeken is the Alberta regional representative for the Canadian Foodgrains Bank, a partnership of 15 Canadian churches and church-based agencies working together to end global hunger. It is estimated that up to 828 million people on our planet currently do not have “food security”, meaning they do not have regular access to enough nutritious […]
Holy Moses! is the name of this year’s summer church program for kids, happening right now at the Ponoka United Church and starting up on Monday at the Bashaw United Church. It’s the first in-person summer day camp that we’ve been able to run in three years, but it’s a program that Robin King and […]
Affirming Connections is an organization that’s placing itself at the intersection of faith communities in southern rural Alberta communities and the LGBTQ2S+ community, making valuable connections among churches interested in becoming an “Affirming” ministry. As part of their work, Affirming Connections created a series of videos called “Small Town, Big Impact: Stories and Strategies from […]
I love stories about big and impactful things emerging from small, unlikely places. So the story of Rainbow Camp popping up from the tiny, remote Northern Ontario community of Thessalon – a camp that is changing and saving lives – was one I really wanted to learn about and share with you! Ten years ago […]
I was recently sitting in a movie theatre, half way through watching Dr Strange – Multiverse of Madness, when things started getting pretty deep and existential! Thinking about my own life, the concept of other potential parallel realities and universes, it occurred to me that the Marvel universe and the enormous world of comic book […]
One of the many organizations Lewis is involved with is the Parliament of the World’s Religions. As a trustee and member for many years, Lewis has shared his Indigenous culture and spirituality at global tables and conversations that he describes as being like “the Olympics of world religions”, in that they gather in a different […]
Working as a freelance writer for the the United Church Observer 20 years ago, Jocelyn realized she had a passion for journalism and for sharing stories that inspire, inform and challenge her readers. Over the last two decades she has seen journalism evolve into the digital realm, the rise of social media, and also the […]
We’ve just celebrated Easter, tulips are breaking through the soil as snow banks quickly melt (again), and our faith communities are returning (again) to in-person events. As we collectively re-examine what it means to be in community, to engage with our congregations, to meet the evolving needs of individuals, it’s clear that “getting back to […]
Tara Shannon’s childhood nickname “Bear” took on a whole new identity when 3 years ago she began drawing rabbits and bears and her sketches turned into powerful and tender moments of conversation and reflection between the two illustrated characters. “Rabbit and Bear” became her outlet for years and years of thoughts, anxiety, depression, grief, magic […]
If you’re looking for words of hope – and I’m pretty sure we all are these days – there are a lot of places to turn, a lot of people who have things to say. If the words are true, they will not only brighten your day, but inspire you to envision a new day, […]
I bet that Jesus often encountered people who were not happy with the company he kept. Pharisees and religious leaders, mostly, but others, too, I suspect, who felt that Jesus, as a godly person, should be spending his time with those they judged to be equally as godly. Certainly not “those people,” sinners, “tax collectors” […]
There was a time when one could reasonably assume that most anyone who attended church regularly knew at least one thing from memory. The Lord’s Prayer or The Prayer of Jesus or the Our Father, depending on your tradition, was one of the first things learned by children and adults. That may not be true […]
My friend Ben Campbell is a tough person to write a bio for, so even deciding how to describe this podcast episode and our invigorating conversation is challenging. I first met Ben through a video project where we did some winter filming at his family’s ranch near Black Diamond, in the Alberta foothills. While his […]
There’s a lot of anxiety out there right now. People are worried about what’s going on in the world. And there’s a lot going on. There was already a host of social, political, economic and justice issues to be faced when the pandemic hit. That’s created its own worries. And now, our hearts hurt for […]
The season of Lent is the forty days before Easter. It originates with the story of Jesus fasting for forty days in the wilderness, where he’s tempted by the devil. Matthew, Mark and Luke each tell the story, though their details vary a bit. For most people, Lent is a time for reflection and self-examination, […]
Pandemic restrictions are lifting again and the heaviness of two years of pandemic living is starting to feel like it could begin to lift. Spring is right around the corner and the Earth is beginning to stir with the promise of new life. And, this week we marked the beginning of the season of Lent […]
I’m sure there’s a long list of bible stories, verses or phrases that are appropriate for what’s happening in the world right now. And we might find comfort and inspiration in the ones we each find most meaningful. But, this week, I can’t help thinking of the story of the Transfiguration as speaking a timely message.
Each of the gospels includes this story of Jesus ascending a mountain with three of the disciples. Once there, he appears to be transfigured – illuminated with bright inner light, as if “in glory” – and then he’s seen talking to Moses and Elijah. The disciples are amazed – and afraid – but Peter wants to build a shrine for each of them to mark the moment. A great cloud appears and God’s voice is heard saying “this is the chosen one, listen to him” and, before you know it, it’s all over. Down the mountain and on with their lives they go.
Of course, each author tweaks the story their own way, but, essentially, here is the divine nature of Jesus revealed, not only in his being transfigured, but in the company he keeps and the voice of God proclaiming him.
Okay. Cool story, but what makes it so meaningful right now?
Look where this happens. It’s a mountain top moment, a peak experience. We all have those in the geography of our lives. We also experience valleys and plains, deserts and green pastures, stormy seas and gentle streams. This particular peak, especially in Luke’s account, is the transition between Jesus’ early ministry and the journey to Jerusalem and the cross. He’s climbed the mountain, the light in him is revealed and he comes down the other side, continuing on his journey toward the valley of shadow and death.
Look what happens. The light is the divine spirit in Jesus. It may be revealed in a moment, and that particular moment passes, but the light doesn’t. And the light doesn’t stay on the mountain, it goes with Jesus into the days ahead. The light that gives hope and courage, the light of grace and compassion, the light of wonder and love, this is the divine light that is in all of us. It goes with all of us.
Look who’s there. Jesus takes his friends with him, appears to be divine himself, but also meets the divine spirits of Moses, the great giver of the law, and Elijah, the greatest of the prophets. The law and the prophets represents the scriptural tradition Jesus says he comes to fulfil. We are all children of God, the divine spirit of life, and that is present in friends, strangers, leaders, followers, the famous and the unknown.
So, when there are shadows, look for the light. When the valleys are deep, remember the mountain top moments. When feeling alone, look for the face of the divine in those around you. Because the divine spirit of life is in all things and shows itself, sometimes when least expected, always when most needed.
It’s been a long time since we’ve all been together, but I feel pretty safe in saying that we have fun at our church. We can also be very serious. Sometimes we laugh, sometimes we cry. There’s enthusiasm that’s sometimes a little noisy and there’s times when it’s quiet, almost too quiet. We use art and video and different media, we sing new songs and old hymns, we’re very dramatic – theatrical, even! – and we talk a lot, we listen to talking and we talk together. We sit, we stand, we dance (yes, we do, really), we move about, we sit still. Occasionally, I bet someone falls asleep. You know who you are.
The point is, we engage the story of God and Jesus and us in a way that’s meaningful, in whatever way helps us to bring it into our lives because the message of Jesus is about life, and living is how we should tell it. In church and in the world. Inside and out.
That’s the thing, really. This is just what we do and others do what they do. That’s what can make the church both so alive and so dead. To be doing what is, not what was. That’s why “church” is changing so much. It’s because we are.
Right now, we’re making our way through a part of the Gospel of Luke that we know as The Sermon on the Plain. It’s likely Luke’s version of what Matthew calls the Sermon on the Mount. Whether it’s an actual “sermon” or they each just collected some of Jesus’ best sayings into this format, it hits on many of the key themes and ideas in Jesus’ ministry. Side note: might also be worth considering if there’s a metaphor here. Is there a different perspective to having someone talk to you from above (mountain) or on the same level (plain) ? Hmm.
Let’s suppose it was a “sermon.” Here’s how I picture this happening. Jesus starts telling the crowd about how they are already blessed and they will only know that blessing in being vulnerable and open enough to experience it. There are some woes, too, and again, it’s really about what’s happening now. Hang on, he says, and take a minute to really think about it. He’s not reading from notes here, so the more impassioned he becomes, he starts moving about. They follow because they have questions about this blessing thing. There’s some dialogue, maybe Jesus needs to grab a shoulder or get close to make that point about how sometimes it’s not going to be easy to follow him.
Listen, he says, looking them right in the eye, love your enemies. He might touch someone’s face or pull at their cloak when he talks about offering the other cheek when someone hits you or give more to those who take. People look confused. I’m not talking about the other person, he says, it’s about you. You, he’ll say as he touches each person around him, and you and you and you. And he’ll move quickly through the crowd, looking for eye contact with each person. He won’t always get it. So he’ll say it more emphatically, it’s about you and how you are. Show others that. Offer love, do good, give without expectations or conditions. Don’t judge others and decide their worthiness, just love. Just. Love.
“Wow, that’s deep,” says Peter. “So simple,” says Andrew. “You just blew my mind,” says James. Luke and Matthew chime in with “I’m gonna write that down before I forget.”
“No,” says Jesus, “don’t just write it down. Go and live it.”
And he proceeds to do just that: he shows them how to take these ideas into their hearts and live them.
That would be an awesome sermon. Not just the style and panache of Jesus. But that they heard his words, took them to heart and lived them. Inside and out.
It’s a lot. The world is struggling with so much. It’s challenging, overwhelming, frustrating. There’s divisiveness, conflict, hurt, brokenness, anger. It’s a lot.
Communication seems to have been an early casualty and, for awhile now, relationships. While we ramped up social media, live streaming and platforms like Zoom and Skype, we also seemed to find dialogue becoming more acrimonious, defensive and divisive. Random acts of anger and bitterness seem to be overtaking kindness. And individuality seems to be trumping community. It’s a lot.
Jeremiah lived in a world with a lot going on. In his time, Judah was threatened by the Assyrians and Egyptians, conquered by the Babylonians, Jerusalem and the Temple were destroyed and many of its people sent to Babylon in exile. It was an era of difficult and violent transitions, religious and political upheaval and personal conflict. Jeremiah offered condemnation and lament about the Hebrew people’s relationship with God, but also words of hope.
Jeremiah encouraged the people to trust in God. He said that trusting in the things of this world, having power through armies and force and valuing stuff more than heart is like being a bush in an arid desert, a shrub in an arid an uninhabitable land. Trusting in God – the divine, the love, grace and spirit of life – is like being a tree planted by a river with deep roots that reach into the earth for water and nourishment. It grows and flourishes and doesn’t fear when the seasons change, because it is strong and connected to the life giving earth.
I think that’s a great way to describe what trust feels like. Connectedness that brings life and warmth and nourishment. It’s not just sustaining, but growing. Call it God, or Spirit or the life force or energy in all things, but trusting that is what brings life to our own spirit, our own hearts and minds.
That power is in all things. It’s easy enough to say that, even see that, when we talk about the creation around us, the seasons and the cycles of life in the world. But that same power is in me and you and in all the people we get along with and in all those we don’t, the people we call friends and the ones we might call enemies, the ones we “love” and the ones we “hate.”
Jesus, I believe, makes that point. Just like Jesus, we’re divine and human, created in the image of God (however you know God) and of the earth. Jesus tries to bring us back to God by revealing that divinity in each of us.
So, what if we understood trusting in God as trusting in God wherever God is – including each other? What if we could work through that connectedness of spirit, of the energy of life and love, that’s in each of us? What if we could employ the love that Paul wrote the Corinthians about, the love that’s patient and kind, envies no one and is not boastful or rude? Or dominating or selfish. What if we could just pause for a moment, take a breath, and seek out the connection of the spirit, rather than the self-oriented, self-important demands that divide us? Wouldn’t it be a place to start, a place of green, shady trees by a quiet stream, rather than a barren, desert wasteland.
I wonder what it feels like to be a fish. One day you’re swimming around, minding your own business, maybe hanging out with some other fish, just getting comfortable in a nice little eddy, snacking on stuff floating by, when – BAM! – you’re hooked. Next thing you know you’re eye up in a frying pan.
Oh sure, you can fight it. You might even break the line or dislodge the hook and get away, but you’ll always feel it. And the other fish will always be looking at you sideways and wondering if it might happen to them. Soon you’re off on a shoal by yourself wondering what happened to those lazy days in school.
I think that’s sometimes how people see the church. After all, didn’t Jesus call his first disciples – who were fishermen – to come and fish for people? For those who find themselves to be spiritual, but not religious, I wonder if this isn’t a key part of that – that they’re not interested in being hooked. And for those that used to attend church, have they found it to be as boring as being, well, dead in the frying pan, or have they been left scarred by the experience? For some, evangelism seems to mean that aggressive “catching” of people who then become one of “us,” saved from the sea of the real world. Maybe they don’t see that kind of fishing as being saved.
But look at the story again and we might be able to describe the image a little differently. The fishermen Jesus called as his first disciples didn’t use hooks, they used a net. So what if we did that. Our net is the love of Jesus that we are called to live out. If we live that kind of life, we bring love to the world. Not just the warm, fuzzy romantic stuff on Valentine’s Day, but the deep, difficult love that calls us to care for the poor and the sick, to be kind and compassionate even to our enemies and to love the seemingly unlovable. That’s a net that holds people but doesn’t hold them back, that embraces them but doesn’t imprison them, that includes all and excludes none. That’s what evangelizing means, by the way: to proclaim the gospel, to tell the story and to live it, too. In sharing that experience with the world, we build a net that connects people with each other and with God.
And we do it on porpoise …
I wasn’t there, so I don’t know for sure, but when Paul visited the city of Corinth in the first century, I think he would have found a pretty cosmopolitan city for its day. The ancient city had largely been destroyed by the conquering Romans in the previous century, but it had been rebuilt as an administrative and trading centre, their provincial capital in Greece. The port brought goods and people from all over the Mediterranean. There would have been Greeks and Romans, some Jews, and likely others from different cultures. There would have been all ages of men, women and children from a variety of social and economic circumstances, government officials, business owners, soldiers, labourers, scholars and artists.
I wonder how Paul would have described them. I imagine, if someone had asked him, that he would have just said, well, they’re people. They have different ideas, different opinions. Some do well, some struggle, but they do the best they can.
I wonder, too, how many people there heard Paul talk about Jesus and teach what Jesus taught. And how many of them were inspired to create a community of followers of this Jesus and become People of the Way, as they were known then. I can’t imagine it was easy in a city like that, in an occupied state where anything that was perceived to challenge the status quo was brutally put down.
And I wonder, when Paul left Corinth, did he feel confident and hopeful for the people that had come together to share their lives in this new community.
However he felt when he left, sometime later he heard things weren’t going well at all. They weren’t embracing their diversity, they were struggling with economic and social issues that were dividing them, issues of authority and practices, issues of power and influence versus justice and equity. Common ground was hard to find, it seemed. Sharing the words and teachings of Jesus was a lot easier than putting them into practice.
So he wrote them a letter.
He had some ideas for how they might address some of the problems they were having, practical wisdom and suggestions for things they could do. And he reminded them that diversity is a great thing. From that one source of life that we know as God or the spirit, comes many gifts. Everyone has gifts, different gifts for different people, but we need them all to be a whole community. It’s like the body, he wrote. Creation is one body, the community is one body, but that common-unity is made by all of us together. We are the parts, the members, the vital organs that make up the body and every part is necessary and important to the whole. Wise words.
But then, it’s like he suddenly realized that wise words are still just words. And even following the words can be just superficial behaviour. Unless … so he wrote “I can speak with all the beauty and eloquence of an angel, but if it doesn’t come from love, it’s just noise. Whatever I do, however I do it, if there isn’t love behind it, it’s nothing.” Love is action of our very being: being patient, being kind, being generous, being humble, being true. It’s our being from the beginning and always, even beyond this life. In fact, says Paul, as important as faith and hope are, love is the most important.
In a world struggling with division, hate, hurt and oppression, begin with love. It’s your very being. Imagine how different you could make things, imagine how you could change the world. Paul could. He wrote us a letter.
According to the Gospel of Luke, Jesus’ public ministry begins like this.
He goes to the Jordan River to be baptized by John, just like everyone else. When he comes out of the river, the Holy Spirit appears as a dove and, Luke says, “descended upon him in bodily form.” Then, Luke says, “Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness” to be tested. After the forty days in the wilderness, Jesus, “filled with the power of the Spirit,” returns to Galilee and begins teaching and preaching with, according to Luke, a lot of success.
One day, he reads scripture in his hometown synagogue. He’s handed the scroll of Isaiah, the great prophet and he reads from near the end of it. “The spirit of God is on me. God has chosen me to bring good news to the poor. God’s sent me to free captives, give sight to the blind, liberate the oppressed and declare a time of restoration, rejuvenation and renewal for all creation.” He then tells everyone that what he just read has been fulfilled in their hearing.
Let’s just pause there for a minute before we come to the people’s reaction.
I believe that Jesus’ ministry is meant to show us more than just what God is capable of in Jesus: it’s meant to show us what God is capable of in us. And, of course, when I say that, I don’t mean a particular religious convention that we call “God,” I mean the life that is in all things, the love, the energy, the universal source that connects us all in that living. I mean the inherent good, creative force that inspires and move us. I mean what I think Luke means when he says “the Holy Spirit.”
I wonder if that isn’t also what Isaiah means. And why Luke tells the story in this way, constantly repeating the presence of the Spirit as Jesus begins his ministry: in his baptism, in his time of discovery in the wilderness, as he begins his ministry and as he proclaims his ministry. Jesus shows us the divinity that is in each of us, all of us. Jesus is just like us, human and divine, hoping to bring us back to God by reconnecting us with the divinity that’s in us, too. “Love one another as I have loved you” doesn’t mean that we imitate Jesus in practice, but that we connect with the spirit that is in us as well as the humanity and be Jesus in our world.
I wonder if all of this might point to Jesus proclaiming Isaiah’s words fulfilled “in your hearing” – he doesn’t say “in me” or “in what I’m about to do.” I wonder if Jesus means to tell the people that the words are fulfilled every time they’re proclaimed and, more importantly, when the spirit moves us to enact them. I wonder if this is Jesus telling us that the spirit is on all of us, we are all chosen and sent, we are all meant to live what we proclaim. It’s as if Jesus were saying the spirit of God is in all of us, let me now show you – in my ministry and in my life – how the time has come for you to live it.
That’s not easy. Or welcome, sometimes. Let’s go back to Luke’s story for a minute. Initially, the crowd is amazed at Jesus. But then they realize he’s just the son of Joseph the carpenter, he’s a local boy, and they’re indignant and offended and threaten him. Not everyone hears the message the same way. That didn’t stop Jesus from proclaiming it or living it. It shouldn’t stop us, either.
Unity and uniformity are not the same thing.
And thank goodness! Imagine what the world would be like if we were all the same. Imagine what the world would be like if all the trees and flowers, animals and birds were all the same.
Well, you can’t, really, can you? Such perfect uniformity is beyond our ability to comprehend. Thank goodness again.
We’re all unique, not only in appearance but in age, gender, sexual orientation, personality, skills, philosophy, culture, religion – the list goes on. In fact, all of creation is unique and different. But we are all still part of the one world in which we live.
In one of his letters to the people in Corinth, the apostle Paul reminds them of that. He was responding to squabbles and divisions in their community. So he reminds them that everyone has their own gifts – abilities, skills, talents – but there is only one source of life from which those gifts come. Paul calls it the Spirit or the power of God, that gives these gifts, but we might also know it as the power of creation or the energy of life, or we might know it simply as love. However you know it, it’s both the source of our life and the thing that connects us all.
If only Paul could think of a metaphor for how unique and diverse we are, that also shows how we’re connected. Something that reminds us that we all need each other. Something that includes everything and everyone, even the things we’d rather not have to deal with, and reminds us that they’re all important. All of them. We could really use that now, Paul.
Together, Paul writes, we are one body and each is a different and individual part of that one body. “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ” (1 Corinthians 12:12). Furthermore, everyone is a different part of that body, just as everyone has different gifts and abilities, and every member is important to the body. Everyone is needed. Everyone is equal.
Yes, equal. Though, in fairness, Paul says that the least are in fact greater: “God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honour to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another” (1 Corinthians 12:24-25). That’s how we have health and wholeness.
But that isn’t what we do, is it? It wasn’t the practice in Paul’s day, either. Back then, the metaphor of the body was already in use as a way to describe a city or town. And it was used as a means to assign not only gifts and abilities but status as well. Those that did the work that made them feet and hands did not have the same status as those who did the thinking, for example. While everyone was necessary to the whole, your status was determined by the value of your ability to the whole. For many, it still is.
But Paul’s body isn’t about commodities, it’s about people. The body that Paul describes reflects love for everyone, no matter who they are, what they do, what they think or know or feel or even what they believe. In this body, every member is a part of the whole simply by “being” in the first place. In fact, in this body, the strong care for the weak, the wise care for the foolish, the big care for the small, everyone respects everyone and we’ve learned that everyone is a gift worthy of love and sharing.
If we want our communities to be healthy and whole, maybe this is a good place to start.
Just before I put away our nativity scene (our creche or manger scene, if you like) this year, I paused for a moment to take it all in, one last time. We might put the figures away and box up the stable, but I like to think the characters continue on with us.
What adventures are ahead? I don’t really know, but I feel better knowing that we can go together. If not in person, then in story and in heart, in imagination and awareness. I think that’s comforting. And inspiring.
We have further stories of Jesus to guide us, but what about the shepherds and the magi? The shepherds may well have returned to the comfort of their flocks and fields, but the magi, fearful of Herod, it says, “returned home by another road.” Wherever they went, I’m sure they took with them the experience of meeting Jesus and all it meant. For the shepherds, hoping for a messiah, it meant a promise kept and hope realized. For the magi, following a sign in the sky, it meant a prophecy fulfilled. For all of us, it means that same love they found can be found in every journey.
That’s ahead. Before we put it away again until next year, it might also be useful to consider how everyone in the nativity scene got here, arriving at the tableau it represents.
I like to think of the angel as the stage manager in this production directed by God. The angel instigates and moves the action on, but the characters live it.
Mary and Joseph arrived here both by the grace of God and the command of the oppressive occupiers of their country. That night was the intersection of the divine and the earthly powers.
I think of any animals that might have been on hand as innocent bystanders, unintentional witnesses of a new life in the world. But then, animals are much more in tune with creation around them, so who’s to say that they didn’t instinctively know that the creator was coming there?
The shepherds were on hand because they were told to be. As much as they might have been waiting in hope for the coming of the messiah, the good news was proclaimed to them and they followed directions to find Jesus. That’s part of their story, they then went and told everyone “what had been told them about this child” and they were “glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.” Everything they had seen and heard brought them to Jesus.
But the magi are a different story entirely. They were seekers. They were from a different culture, different religion, different world entirely, but they followed a sign, the star, which they interpreted to mean a prophecy was fulfilled. They didn’t know where they were going and I don’t think they really knew what they would find until they found it. And somehow they knew it was just the right thing.
However they came, from wherever they came, they all met Jesus and found just what they were looking for: love, unconditional, innocent and new, just like a child. We all know God our own way, we come to God our own way and we are all loved by God, just as we are, whoever we are, however we are, wherever we come from. And we can love, just as we are. A child will show us how.
There’s an old celtic story I like that begins with two brothers who don’t get along. They competed with each other most of their lives and when their father died, they fought over who should inherit the family farm. Their bitterness and ill will was fracturing the community in which they lived.
Tired of trying to mend their relationship, the local priest finally said to them both, “look, I’ll make you a bet. You each take one half of your father’s land and work it, harvesting all that you can. We will divide the big barn into three parts. Whoever fills the barn the most, by sunset on the last day of the season, will win. If one of you wins, then you claim the farm and the other moves to another county. If I win, the two of you will embrace each other, work the farm together and live as brothers should.”
“But you have only the land around the church,” said one brother. “That’s hardly good to grow anything,” said the other, “what will you grow?”
“That’s not your concern,” said the priest. “Do we have a bet?”
The brothers knew the priest could not win, so they leapt at the chance to claim the farm once and for all. They agreed.
All summer they worked, tilling and planting, nurturing their crops. And the priest seemed to do nothing.
As the crops ripened, they harvested all they could, working hard from dawn to dusk, one eye on their work, the other on their competition. Still, the priest did nothing.
The barn became increasingly full and the two brothers seemed so close, one could hardly tell who might win. But the priest’s part of the barn remained empty.
On the very last day, as the sun set, the brothers bundled in the last of their crops. The priest was nowhere to be seen. The brothers laughed and waited impatiently to measure their harvests, confident that each was the winner.
But just as the last bright rays of the sun shone on the barn door, the priest appeared. He walked straight into the barn, took a lantern from his pack and lit it. The light from the lamp filled the barn, illuminating even the darkest corners.
The brothers realized the priest had won. Looking at their great harvest by the light of the priest’s lamp, they also realized the foolishness of their quarrel. Inspired by the light, their love for one another became a bright light in their community.
I know what you’re thinking: boy, those clergy are smart! No? Oh, well, then maybe you’re thinking that it was just a trick on the priest’s part and you can’t believe that the two men fell for it or gave in quite so easily.
But that’s the thing about light. We take it so for granted. We can easily forget its power to illuminate truth and wisdom as well as “stuff.”
The Gospel of John doesn’t have a narrative birth story for Jesus. Instead, John talks about “the Word” become flesh and how “the true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world” (John 1:9). Jesus, John says, is the light which shows us how to live. Jesus, John says, makes God “known” to us.
The candles we light at Christmas shine on more than a child in a manger. They symbolize the light that comes into the world through the life of Jesus. They symbolize the light that, like the priest’s lantern, shows more than “stuff.”
This is the light of love, grace, compassion and justice. It doesn’t tell us where or how to step, but offers us illumination as we journey.
I wish for peace this Christmas.
My wish is not so grand as to ask that the world will see less conflict, an end to war and violence and a more cooperative approach to all relationships. I would like that and it’s truly important. I forever hope that we will continue to struggle towards that peace. And I mean the hope of faith and certainty that we will get there. One day.
But this Christmas, I wish for something simpler, something more personal: peace for you.
I wish for peace that is a quieted spirit in a frenetic world.
I wish for peace that is rest from anxiety.
I wish for peace that is the warming of cold hearts.
I wish for peace that is the healing of broken hearts.
I wish for peace that is a moment of comfort in grief.
I wish for peace that is forgiveness.
I wish for peace that is a healthy mind and body.
I wish for peace that is having enough.
I wish for peace that is contentment with being just who we are.
I wish for peace that is found in belonging.
I wish for peace that is time with those we love.
I wish for peace that is found in dreams and in remembering.
I wish for peace that is found in visions and learning.
I wish for peace that is a warm bed.
I wish for peace that is a sky full of stars.
I wish for peace that is fresh air and clean water.
I wish for peace that is wholeness.
I wish for peace that is knowing we are all loved.
I wish you peace this Christmas.
Last week, I wrote about the song “Mary did you know.” I mentioned the controversy around it (yes, Mary did know, why are you asking?) but went in the direction of how valuable it is to ask questions and wonder about the characters in the Christmas Story. How else can we engage them, get to know them, relate to them. Imagine the story coming alive. Imagine the different perspectives in the story from all those characters. Imagine what that might say to us today. Imagine the timeless story finding its way into today’s world.
Wonder. Imagine.
I also suggested that the angel’s visit to Mary provided only the big picture, not the details of getting there, first to the birth and then the life which will be lived. In talking about that, I referred to the expectations of the people for what kind of messiah would be coming. It’s something we’re often reminded of, particularly at Christmas, but also later, when Jesus arrives in Jerusalem that last week of his life. I wrote “remember, just like so many of the other characters in the story, Mary’s understanding of the messiah they were expecting was likely a warrior-king with wealth and armies that would overthrow the oppressor and restore the glory of Israel. Truly, that would be somebody that would be worthy of ‘the throne of his ancestor David.’”
Someone called me on my minister-splaining and suggested that it’s possible Mary didn’t think that at all. What if the reason Mary was chosen, the reason she was “favoured” by God, was because she believed that the messiah could be something different? What if Mary knew the messiah could be a bringer of peace, not war, a healer, a builder, a lover? What if Mary could already imagine something different? What if there were others who wondered that, too? “You may say that I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one,” sings John Lennon in Imagine.
What if that’s how the adult Jesus connected so closely with the twelve seemingly random people he chose as his inner circle of friends? What if that’s how Jesus connected with all his followers: that they, too, dreamed of love and peace and grace, that they, too, intuitively knew we are all both human and divine?
That’s a lot of questions, but that’s just my point: I want to know more. I want the characters in the story to be more than flat, one-dimensional set pieces that justify a particular religious thought or tradition. I want them to be people that I can relate to, complicated and simple, fearful and strong, faithful and tempted, loving and challenged by love, divine and human.
Mary may have been “meek and mild,” she may also have been tough and strong. Perhaps she was innocent and naive or she may have been an old soul, aware of the wonders of the universe. She may have been so much more than the bare words of old gospel writers. I wonder if she could tell us more about that.
Ernest wears a lot of hats (insert bald joke here lol), but like all of us, he’s not defined by his career or various roles in life. In this episode we talk a lot about purpose and what creates a meaningful life, we talk about some of Ernest’s spiritual journey, passions and entrepreneurial projects, and we unpacked his recent experience at a meditation retreat that had a dramatic impact on his life.
“Mary did you know” has become a popular Christmas song recently. I like it. I like the idea of being able to interact with a character in the Christmas story, asking questions and wondering what they might be thinking or feeling. For me, wonder is a key component of Advent and Christmas, both the wonder of amazement and the wonder of understanding.
If you, somehow, haven’t heard it, “Mary did you know” is a series of questions, asking Mary, as a new mother, if she knew what her son would do and be when he grows up. There’s mention, in the questions, of some of the miracles from the gospel stories and scriptural references that describe the son of God, but wondering about the answers is left to us.
There’s some controversy about it, though. Some folks don’t like the idea of questioning Mary or her awareness of what was happening. Some just think the song, at best, is redundant. Because the answer is “yes.” Yes, she did know. Read the story. It’s pretty clear. The angel tells her the child will be the son of God and “he will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” (Luke 1:32-33)
Okay, but there’s not a lot of detail there. Certainly Mary accepts the angel’s words (“let it be with me according to your word”) and seems secure in her understanding of the big picture, secure enough to inspire the words “surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.” (Luke 1:38, 48-49) But I wonder what Mary was feeling about the first steps on this journey and I wonder if she expected that grand description to turn out, in detail, the way it did for her and for her son.
I’m not questioning the presence of the divine in the story, nor am I suggesting that Mary felt anything less than fully trusting in God. But I also think that here is a moment to wonder about the very human characters experiencing this wonder, to come closer to them and their story, a story of meeting God and sharing love in a way that could not have been expected. I want to be part of that story.
The angel didn’t say anything at all about the hardships that were ahead even before the child was born, nothing about shepherds or magi or Herod or how Mary and Joseph, a poor young couple, would provide for the Son of God. And remember, just like so many of the other characters in the story, Mary’s understanding of the messiah they were expecting was likely a warrior-king with wealth and armies that would overthrow the oppressor and restore the glory of Israel. Truly, that would be somebody that would be worthy of “the throne of his ancestor David.” How could that be her son?
Jesus was something different. I’d like to wonder about what Mary thought of that. I’d like to wonder if she had expectations for the future like anyone else or simply the hope – the certainty of hope – that, whatever happens, God is with us and that is enough. Perhaps it was both. I wonder if she could tell us more about that.